Thursday, August 24, 2006

Mountain Man

In a corner of the world, in the centre of a gigantic flat plain, lies a mountain. An ancient creation of forces unknown. A monument to Time and the Universe and the elements which make us all. Which make it all.

The goat stood on top of the mountain.

This is where I make my stand, he thought. I am ready.

The mountain didn't reply. But it comforted the Goat all the same.

And as the wind tickled his whiskers, he tilted his head back and laughed at EVERYTHING.

And in the distance he could see storms and armies and philosophers and machines and cities and trees and dancers and kings. And some of these things were moving toward him and others were moving away, but he no longer felt the urge to run.

This time he shouted it back to the wind, THIS IS WHERE I MAKE MY STAND.

And the wind carried it across the plain and everything stopped for one brief moment as his words washed through them all. Then the storms grew stormier, and the armies began to march, the philosophers cast their judgement, the machines roared and clanged into life, the cities reflected the sun as their towers reached for Heaven, the trees danced their swaying dance that matched the way the dancers danced for their regal kings, who sat upon the thrones made of bone.

And beyond that, the ocean began to rise, flooding all beneath it as it reached for its true love, the mountain.

And the goat laughed louder as he watched the world drown.


Sometimes, I forget, that all I've ever been is a fucking hopeless romantic on a quest for true love.

Take care guys.


  1. It's good to hear from you again, I had been missing your words.

  2. I didn't realise that was goodbye. Take care yourself Matty B.